


Profits

by DT Maxwell (Draya)



Series: Our Blades Are Sharp [33]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Arty is a gooey marshmallow who could break your legs, Arty just likes feeding people and making sure her employees are taken of, Dea is socially maladjusted and hates everyone except her sisters, Dea takes money seriously, Gen, Renatus Family Feels, Restaurants, and Arty's Disappointed Look is really powerful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5020795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/pseuds/DT%20Maxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, <em>Never Question Dea's Business Savvy</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Profits

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr in June 2015.
> 
> Arty is a retired bounty hunter who owns a restaurant. Dea is an ex-smuggler who runs a very profitable information brokerage and slicing business that specializes in corporate business matters. Dea makes more money than she knows what to do with. Arty wants to feed more people. Dea buys an old sky palace near the Nar Shaddaa Promenade, transfers the title to Arty, and lo, Arty is now officially a restaurateur.
> 
> This is how the planning for the new restaurant goes.

“Profit margins,” Dea hissed out while writing up the business model for the new restaurant. She was hunched over a datapad, scribbling so hard with a stylus it was squeaking as it was drawn across the screen. “I will make you All The Credits.”

Dea’s manic obsession with Better Business was approaching frightening. “Dea,” Arty said slowly, “I don’t _want_ All The Credits.”

Faster than she could blink, her little sister had moved from the couch to get right up in Arty’s personal space (standing on tiptoe to do so). Yep, full on manic had set in, if Dea’s eyes were anything to go by.

“Do you _want_ to be able to both fund this new place and the diner Below?” Dea hissed.

Arty knew exactly where this was going, but decided to humor her little sister and her indignation anyway. She said, “Yes.”

“Do you _want_ to be able to continue providing all of your employees with Core-standard salaries and benefits?”

“Yes.”

“Do you _want_ to be able to continue giving discounted or free meals to homeless or broke customers?”

“Yes.”

“And _who_  has been managing the family finances since she was eight?”

Arty sighed and rolled her eyes. “You,” she said. It was true, but gods above and below, Dea would be rubbing in her knack for numbers on her damn deathbed.

“Then you will _FOLLOW MY BUSINESS PLAN._ ”

“For fuck’s sake, Dea, you want to charge sixteen credits for a cheeseburger and fries and that’s not including the shake!”

“It's the _**Promenade!**_ Sixteen creds is still cheaper than ninety-nine percent of the rest of the food vendors and yours is guaranteed  _not to give anyone any communicable diseases!_ ”

“…You’re joking.”

“ _Who's the information broker in the family._ "

**Author's Note:**

> And sixteen credits _still_ is cheaper than what Arty's food is worth, considering the quality of ingredients and portion sizes. Dea is appalled with her big sister, but baby steps, she reminds herself. Baby steps.


End file.
